Gru's Legs
by The-Fabulous-Person
Summary: To each girl, they meant something a little different. But to the sisters, brought together through neglect, through suffering, and through tragedy, Gru's legs meant they had finally found home.  K  for mentions of child abuse and death.


Daddy's legs had a lot of importance to each girl. Margo, Edith, and Agnes had all had daddies before Mr. Gru, but their legs hadn't meant as much, or the same, to the girls as Gru's legs.

Margo's daddy's legs had never been there, not really. His legs had been long, like Gru's, but thicker, and always in expensive pinstripe-pants that he would yell at her for touching. He hadn't wanted her grimy little girl fingers anywhere near the expensive material. He would yell at her and shake her off and go away somewhere again, leaving her alone in the big house with the pretty, shiny things she wasn't supposed to touch, alone with the mean old lady who would smack the little girl with a ratty old feather duster and banish her to her room. The last time Margo had seen those legs was when the mean old lady had bundled Margo out of the car and deposited the girl onto the steps in front of the big brick building. Margo had been too young to remember her daddy's face, or where she lived, for Miss Hattie to be able to send her back.

Edith remembered well how her daddy's legs had liked to kick out at her whenever she tried to sneak by. She remembered how she would tremble with fear when she hid under her mommy and daddy's bed, and daddy's legs would appear in the space between the floor and mattress. Her daddy had liked to hit and kick and scream at her and mommy. Especially at mommy. The last time Edith had seen his legs, daddy had kicked her hard enough to make the blackness come into her vision, and when she woke up, mommy was dead.

Agnes had been too little, only a year old, when her daddy's legs, and the rest of him, were flattened by that semi truck. If she scrunched up her face real tight and squinted her eyes and concentrated real hard, she could remember sitting on her daddy's knee while he bounced her and sang the horsy song. She could remember laughing and pulling herself up on her daddy's leg, holding onto him as she stood on two wobbly legs. She could remember sitting in the cradle made by those legs, her chubby little hands crinkling colorful paper while a big tree glittered in front of her. But those memories were fuzzy, unfocused, and took a lot of time and effort to remember.

Gru's legs were different than their other respective daddies' legs had been. Gru's legs were long a thin and sturdy and easy to hold onto. He wouldn't yell and shake Margo off when she hugged his leg every day after school in greeting. His leg wouldn't swing out to kick Edith in the ribs when she knocked something over or ran passed him in the hall. And his leg was always there for Agnes to clamber up, or for quick ride while she sat on his foot and wrapped her chubby little arms and legs around his calf.

Gru's legs were anchors when they stood up on that platform sometimes after dinner, always there for them to cling to for safety. Gru's legs were a shield between them and their new classmates on the first day of school, until Gru assured them they would be alright, and that he would be back to pick them up when the bell rang. Gru's legs were welcoming benches for the girls to crowd onto for a story before bedtime.

Gru's legs were always there for a quick hug before the girls ran off to their next adventure. Gru's legs were always there to kick down a door when another villain tried to kidnap the girls so they could threaten Gru, or just to kick around a ball in the summer when the girls begged him to go to a park and play soccer. Gru's legs meant someone to reach the cookies you wanted on the highest shelf in the store, or a cup from the cabinet in the kitchen.

Gru's legs meant safety, security, comfort. To each girl, they meant something a little different. But to the sisters, brought together through neglect, through suffering, and through tragedy, Gru's legs meant they had finally found home.

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**Oi, that one hit me in the face. I was watching Despicable Me while I was working on my AiW2010 story, and inspiration smacked me square in the face. I suppose it could be a little fine-tuned, but I'm just going to submit it and get back to work on Blank! So enjoy!**


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